Tuesday night we had a little snowstorm that left about 3-4 inches on the ground. I wasn’t able to get the drive cleared before work yesterday morning, so I planned to take care of things as soon as I returned home.

I was rolling though the subdivision at about 5:15pm, and I noticed that almost all the driveways in my ‘hood had been cleared already. I thought to myself, “damn, how did everybody get these done so quickly? didn’t anyone have to go to work today?”

Um, apparently not…the Michigan unemployment numbers came out yesterday, and it’s not pretty: 9.6%

That’s about 1 in 10 people out of work. Those numbers don’t even take into account people like myself, who are working but not at their full capacity. They also don’t count people who have just given up looking for a job at all.

And then, there was news this morning that the Big Three automakers are extending their holiday shutdowns well into January of 2009. My money is on at least one of them not calling back a huge number of workers, probably Chrysler.

Me? I’m just hanging on. I’m trying to remain hopeful about my most recent job lead without obsessively checking my phone and email. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the temp agency could find me something to do after this gig officially ends on January 14. Because, well, the unemployment benefits fund here in Michigan is in the red, too.

It takes a lot of focus and strength to not panic about things here in Michigan. It’s rough here. Ow.

I had an interview at a medium-sized employer last week. The interview started of kinda rocky; I had some “I don’t know’s” as answers to some rather crucial questions. However, since I am the interviewing-est person in all of Michigan, I was able to rally and save the interview.

I was able to save it so well that I was called to give the written A-OK for some background checking. I take this as a good sign, because places in this economic environment won’t spend the 50 buck on a criminal check on someone they aren’t very interested in. And finally, leading a very dull and uneventful life will pay off. My background and credit are clean as a whistle.

I know that they are looking to have someone start in early January, and since the holidays are coming up, I’m assuming a decision will be made pretty quickly.

I am keeping my fingers crossed. Tightly. A job would be the best holiday present I could get.

In my continuing saga of searching for a job, I have secured a rare bird indeed: an interview in the fourth quarter.

It’s on Friday, with a fairly large local employer. I’m qualified for the job, I think. I’m a little rusty on some of the fundamentals, since I’ve been out of my field for about a year. But, I’ve been buckling down and doing a little cramming to bring myself up to speed. I’ve alerted my newly-overhauled references that they may get a call in the near future, and who it may be from. Tomorrow night I’ll press my suit. Friday morning I’ll give myself an internal pep talk.

The pay is not so great, but slightly better than what I am making now. It’s steady work, but there would be little hope of internal advancement.  It’s unionized, so it’s fairly secure. There would be access to health insurance and some tuition reimbursement (hello, Master’s Degree). I could see myself hanging in there for a few years until the economy gets better and I get me some more learnin’.

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It’s been interesting to watch how my acceptable criteria for a potential job has declined over the past year. I used to be all: “I want to make more than I did at the nonprofit!” Then, “Well, equal to what I was making or a little less would be OK.” Now, I’m down to “Oh, a 25% pay cut from what I used to be making? That will have to work.” Health insurance is non-negotiable. Tuition reimbursement would be a veritable godsend.

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I’ve been struggling about how to answer the perennial interview question: “where do you see yourself in 3-5 years?” I know that employers want someone with some ambition, but not too much. You don’t want to scare a potential boss with the idea you want their job, or that you’ll jump ship as soon as a better opportunity comes along.

I used to have a good grip on where I wanted my career to go. When I first busted out with my business degree, I was full of ideas and goals and gusto. But this year of underemployment has rocked my world. To plaster a smile on my face and say all the things I used to say, about wanting a job with growth potential and opportunity, seems insincere and hollow. I’ve tweaked my answer a bit to reflect my changing attitudes, but it’s tough when all I want to say is: “I just hope I’m still working in 3-5 years.” Because frankly, for the past 3-5 years, it’s been hard even to accomplish that here in Michigan.

Kris Dunn, aka the HR Capitalist, has written a great article entitled: “You Want Fiscal Responsibility? Ask Your Candidates if They Use Coupons from Subway…” In this article, Kris tells the tale of Matt Bonner, a player for the NBA’s San Antonio Spurs. The man makes about three million dollars a year, but drives a 2006 Pontiac Grand Prix. And yes, as the title of the article implies, he uses coupons at Subway. Uses them vehemently, in fact.

Turns out that Matt Bonner is not a really flashy basketball player. He has good fundamentals, works hard, and is a consistently good contributor to the team. Who he is off the court, a practical guy, is certainly reflected on the court.

In my less experienced (aka younger and stupider) days, I didn’t realize that Work Lisa and Personal Lisa were two sides of the same coin. They probably weren’t, really, in my early days of working. Heck, Lisa wasn’t really mostly done cooking till her late 20’s. However, those two sides are now fully entwined, especially with regards to fiscal responsibility.

I used to work for a nonprofit organization. I was responsible, among many other things, for ordering office supplies for the organization. I had asked if there was a budget for such things that had to be adhered to. I was told, “nah, just order what we need.” Hmmm. Okay?

From the get go, I took it upon myself to order only what was absolutely necessary. I cleaned and organized the supply closet. I searched for the best prices on things that we used regularly. I negotiated discounts for items that could be delivered at regular intervals. When there was a huge Bic pen sale for 29 cents a dozen, I stocked up. I urged staff members going to conferences to avail themselves of all the free pens and post-its they could carry home.

One day, I got some flak from someone about the quality of pens I was ordering. I looked the complainer in the eye and said, ” You want a better quality of pen? Bring it from home.”

I felt that every penny that wasn’t going toward things like rulers, notepads, and pens could be spent on something more operationally necessary. I didn’t think this way because I was told to, or because I was given a hard and fast budget to stick to. I thought this way because I was erring on the side of spending a company’s money like it was my own. Ownership equals responsibility.

In this time of economic crisis, one would think that hiring managers would be asking fiscal questions in interviews, even for traditionally non-fiscally-related jobs. I can tell you as someone who has been interviewing for the past year that this isn’t happening, and it should be.

I have joked, on occasion, with my sweetie that I have interviewed at every potential employer in the county and am up to making a second round, for some of the same jobs.

I fear those statements, made in jest, are about to come true.

I applied for a position earlier this year and made it very far into the selection process. I had a Big Interview and my references were checked. However, I didn’t land the job.

I noticed that the position is open again, and now I am in an odd place: how do I graciously ask to be reconsidered? I still think that I’m qualified, and could do the job well. I really liked the team I met, and thought they were a talented bunch.

I don’t want to come off as desperate, or on the flip side, over confident. But I truly would like a second shot  at this particular gig, and I’m not gonna be afraid to ask for it.

Well, once I hone a carefully crafted phone message and cover letter. Let’s not be rash, after all.

Since my own family lives far away from scenic Michigan (they have the gall to live in sunny Florida), I spend Thanksgiving with my boyfriend’s family. My bf’s dad and stepmom have the whole Thanksgiving dinner down to a science. They cook bird(s), dressing, potatoes, and let the guests take care of the rest. We all have our marching orders at least a week or two in advance.

My/ our assignment: sweet potatoes.

I’m a good cook, if I do say so myself, but cooking these damned sweet potatoes gives me a conniption every year. They need to be tasty, but traditional. They need to travel well, and be re-heatable. There needs to be enough made to make it through the dinner, with some left over.

Personally, I don’t think I even ate a sweet potato or yam until I was in my early twenties. I come from New England, and these veggies were just odd exotic items to me and my family. I knew people in the South ate them, ostensibly in a casserole with marshmallows on top- at least that’s what I’d seen on television.

Now don’t get me wrong, I now love the humble sweet potato. But I usually cook ‘em one of two ways: mashed with butter, brown sugar, and a smidgen of cinnamon; or, oven roasted, then opened and seasoned the same way. My sweet potato repertoire is short, to say the least. And, I’m not accustomed to seeing them on the Thanksgiving table.

So this year, I hit a big sale and got my mountain of sweet potatoes. On Thanksgiving Day I parboiled, peeled, quartered, seasoned, and roasted. I peeled back the aluminum foil in anticipation and tasted…

…the blandest root vegetables I had ever put in my mouth.

They were blah. They tasted plain and un-special. They were not what I wanted to bring to the Big Feast. And we were about an hour and 45 minutes from leaving the house. And I still needed a shower. My beloved tried to convince me that the taters tasted OK, but I was unconvincible and inconsolable. I was in a panic.

Then, I had a cooking out-of-body experience. I gathered up my culinary talents and unleashed them. I put on my coat and left the house, after asking my beloved to “drain the liquid from the taters m’kaythanksbye.” I returned from the Hunt victorious, with a can of frozen orange juice concentrate and a navel orange. I opened the can, plopped a bit of the concentrate in the saucepan with the sweet potato liquid, and simmered away. I tasted. And seasoned. I added more concentrate. I stirred. I tasted. I watched the liquid reduce and thicken. I added some nutmeg. I asked my sweetie if it tasted OK. He smiled after licking the spoon and I knew I was home free. I tossed the still warm sweet potatoes with their new Orange Spice Glaze and sighed in relief.

I then showered and got out of my godawful sweatpants.

The sweet potatoes ended up being a big hit, with compliments lobbed my way. I chuckled on the inside every time someone said “Great sweet potatoes, Lis,” because they very nearly were Not So Great. Thank goodness I’m inventive and plucky and have a grocery store five minutes away. Whew.

I usually say about whatever I’m cooking that the secret ingredient is Love. This time, the secret ingredient was Panic… and that worked out OK too.

I spent a fair bit of my early adult life working in retail. I worked my way up from Worker Elf to Manager of a very busy store. I worked my share of Black Fridays, so I can speak of them not only from the perspective of experience, but now, distance.

Those Fridays sucked.

The “Black Friday Phenomenon” wasn’t a phenomenon at all in the 1990’s, when I was in the trenches of retail sales. We sales associates called it Black Friday for having to deal with the teeming hordes of people who would come through our places of business; those masses were enough to blacken anyone’s mood. There were sales to be had, for sure, though not at the establishment I worked at, which was famous at the time for only having one sale a year, after Christmas.

I remember well the crowds of people. I remember trying to get through the packed store to the break room so that I could unwind for a few minutes. Once there, my coworkers and I traded stories of shopper meltdown and unreasonable demands. No one really seemed happy. The sales staff would have preferred to have been home with their loved ones. The shoppers weren’t exactly having fun, either. They were marking items off their lists, grinding the gift purchasing out and getting it done.

All I knew at the time was that Black Friday kicked off a six week period of very long days. Product couldn’t get onto the floor fast enough, and everyone’s nerves were frazzled. It wasn’t merry, and it wasn’t jolly. It was ho-ho-ho-rendous.

I did earn a lot of overtime during those holiday seasons. Thank you FLSA.

In the years since leaving retail, I make it a point to NOT visit a store on Black Friday unless it is absolutely necessary. I guess it’s my own version of Buy Nothing Day. I’ve ventured forth in previous years for cold medicine and such, but I stay home if I possibly can. There’s no deal out there that could lure me into a hotly crowded store. There’s no bargain that could make me feel OK with plunking an item on a counter and enduring the tired stare of an underpaid sales clerk who hasn’t had a break in way too long.

Now, to those who went out and nabbed that huge flatscreen television for a song today, good for you. I truly hope you got an awesome deal, and that you paid cash. However, I was content to stay at home, read, do a little laundry, and think about the coming holiday season with quiet anticipation, not wild-eyed frenzy.

Via the AP:

“Michigan’s October unemployment rate surged to 9.3 percent, its highest rate since July 1992 and six-tenths of a percentage point higher than September’s jobless rate of 8.7 percent.”

…and…

“Michigan appears to be on track to have the nation’s highest annual unemployment rate for 2008, a distinction it nabbed in 2006 and 2007. The year-to-date average jobless rate through October was 8.1 percent.”

I’ve gotten a few emails from folks who read this blog and say, “Awwww Lis, it can’t be that bad.”

Numbers don’t lie. It is that bad.

Today, I have a phone interview with a Very Large Local employer. This place employs many folks in the area, and is a cornerstone of the local economy. I’m fairly stoked about the job I’m interviewing for, since it is actually in my field of expertise.

Of course, my anticipation is tempered by the fact that this will be the third time that I’ve interviewed at this particular place. I’ve been up for two other jobs, so this third time will either be a charm, or it’ll be “three strikes and you’re out,” like at another local employer. Yah, I’ve sorta given up on those other folks. I can take a hint, and their business is in the crapper anyway. So, pfffft to them.

As always, I’m keeping my fingers crossed. The coming winter and holidays have me a little stressed out, and I’d like a more permanent place to hang my hat 40 hours a week.

I guess I really can’t claim to be a Michigan Blogger without weighing in on the goings-on in the auto industry.

I may have a different view from others here in the state of Michigan, due to the fact that I’m an outsider. I wasn’t born here. I grew up in New England, and only moved to Michigan in 1999. I never knew the Glory Days of the Big Three. I hear from people I know about how it used to be: high wages, great health benefits, fabulous pensions. It was a badge of pride and honor to work for the auto industry. People were always angling to “get in” so that they could put in a number of years and retire comfortably.

I’ve never known that auto industry. My experience has always been of it struggling. In my almost 10 years of living in Michigan, I have never actively sought to work for one of the Big Three. I’ve always seen them as sinking ships, plugging holes where they can to desperately keep afloat. Why would I want to hitch my wagon to that star?

Admittedly, I’m not much of a “car person.” I view my car not as a status symbol, but as a way to get me from here to there comfortably and efficiently. I don’t care about speed (as anyone who has ever driven with me can attest to. ahem.). I care about safety, comfort, fuel economy, reliability, and a good radio. OK, and I like having a moon roof. Since moving to Michigan, I can’t help but pay attention to  what American automakers produce. And I always wonder:

“Why can’t they make anything that I want to buy? Who the heck does their market research?”

That’s my opinion of the Big Three: bloated, backwards-thinking companies that don’t make products that people want to buy. Yes, I understand there are a lot of legacy and retiree costs. Yes, I know that the UAW has negotiated above market value wages for the rank and file. I know that steel ain’t gettin’ any cheaper. But I also haven’t seen any major innovation from these companies. Sure, there have been countless layoffs. But what else are they doing to truly change the way they do business?

I’m no business genius. I don’t know what it will take to get the Big Three back on track, or if they even have the capacity to thrive again. I know that they will have to be radically different from the companies than they are now, from product mix to management to strategic goals. I also know that I don’t want the federal government to throw “good money after bad” and bail them out. I even went so far as to yell at the television one evening (my boyfriend will vouch for this): “Screw the auto industry. You guys SUCK.”

Yah, not eloquent. But it’s how I and many others feel. The auto industry has dragged this area down for years and years, and I’m sick of seeing it.

Additional reading on this topic:

• Thomas L. Friedman, in the New York Times: “How to Fix a Flat.” Read the comments too- fascinating.
• Article from the Michigan Business Review about GM slashing retiree benefits.
• What about bankruptcy? Big Three BigWigs are resisting it.